


Up in the sky

by little_frodo



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Cruelty, Death, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Jealous Ivar (Vikings), Knifeplay, M/M, against all rules
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2020-12-07 13:03:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20976329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_frodo/pseuds/little_frodo
Summary: There is something between them, that Ivar wants to find out. These excited feelings whenever he gets close to this man, a man that he should kill. But everytime the sky gets dark, Ivar cannot hide these things.Although war is right in front of them.





	1. Above us

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this story! I was gone for a long time, doing exams and all that unfunny stuff that daily life has to offer... But finally (being sick), I found some time to write something about my favourite shipping! :) 
> 
> Some that might have read my german story "fever" will recognize some similarities, and yeah.. somehow this story is very very close to fever, kind of like a translation but not directly. So be warned. :D 
> 
> I am happy about every feedback and hope you enjoy it! :)

The air around him felt cold, and although Ivar had sunken his body deep down into the bathtub outside the tent, he still felt his goosebumps everywhere. He could see his warm breath when he slowly exhaled into the night.

What a day, he thought, sinking down a bit more to pure some more water over his shoulders.

It had been a truly fantastic day for them. Running down the army of the Saxons, they had been able to capture one of their most popular warriors: the bishop Heahmund. Ivar had not been able to focus on something else than this man – really, the way he had fought for his life was one of the most impressive things Ivar had ever seen. It was like magic, the way the bishop had swung his sword to kill so many of his Vikings as he possibly could do; and although Ivar’s rage had been massive, he still wasn’t able to kill that man.

He wanted him. As his pet, as his warrior. He wanted to be like him, strong. Independent. And with a fire in his eyes that Ivar haven’t even seen in his oldest brothers ones.

“Do you want to visit him again?” a deep voice said calmly behind him; Ivar knew that it was Olaf, one of his most loyal followers.

Ivar pulled his hands behind his neck and took a long look into the beautiful sky full of stars – blinking so lovely at night, they have had Ivar since his childhood days. If Valhalla was build with these stars, he couldn’t wait to enter it one day. Whenever death chooses to come up on him.

“Yes… I think he needs some more practice in how to be polite. He still doesn’t want to know that he’s captured, does he?” Ivar grinned; Olaf shrugged.

“He killed Svenson without any weapon. We needed five men to get him bound on that damn pale.”

“He did?” Ivar’s blue eyes wandered over to Olaf, who shrugged his shoulders again and nodded.

“He is not that type of follower guy. Think you’ll have your fun with him.”

Ivar opened his mouth and formed a hungry smile – yes, it was exactly what he wanted. Showing another man, a great warrior, the _he_ was his god now. That _he_ was the strong one and not that dumb Christian.

“These people really need some help in knowing who the fuck is ruling.”, Ivar said, before he nodded over to Olaf to make sure he left him alone.

He didn’t need any help to get out of the tub, although it was an act of time to use all his strength of his arms to climb out of the hot water.

When he finally pulled his legs out, he could feel the cold night air everywhere on his body. It was a good feeling. Like the night wanted to hug him.

***

“Look who we have here.”

Ivar’s voice was calm, but still had his typical hints of evil thoughts when he stood in front of the warrior. He tried to stand strong with his crutches, feeding every sign of a ruling warrior and commander, while his eyes were running down exited over Heahmund’s body.

He was strong; muscular in every way as far as Ivar could see it through his armor. Just like his hair, Heahmund was wearing a deep black armor that fit his body perfectly. A big contrast to all the black and dirt and blood on that body was this face – it was… yes, what was it? Ivar bit his lip when he watched Heahmund’s face and eyes, and he wasn’t able to find another word than attractive. And beautiful, somehow.

Some deep heat was flowing over Ivar’s cheek, but he tried to ignore it. Blue eyes, as same as his, were watching him constantly.

“Why don’t you do yourself a favor and kill me? I will never fight for you.” Heahmund whispered, deep and dark like his whole appearance.

Ivar laughed a bit, not letting go of that handsome face.

_By all the gods, Ivar, stop watching him like this._

“You know I won’t do it. I am not famous for just killing people softly.” He made one step closer to the big Christian who was watching him with all his hate – since he was bound very well against the pale, Ivar was feeling good. It was excited to have this man in front of him, not able to chase after his rage. “I am famous for my cruelty. I don’t just _kill_, I let them enter their worst nightmares ever… let them taste their own blood, let them burn. Let them _taste_ what it feels like to be killed by a god.”

“By a god?” Heahmund snickered; Ivar felt his smile fell down, and he hissed a bit.

“Yes.”

“You are no god. You are a fool, a young fool that is only a leader because he has a famous father. I know who you are, Ivar the boneless, but I also know that you would be nothing without your famous name. A cripple. Maybe you wouldn’t even be on this planet if…”

Heahmund wasn’t able to finish the next words when a cold hand snapped around his chin and pulled him closer, a face hissing and licking lips in rage.

“Stop talking like this, you filthy christian beast! You don’t know who you have in front of you… I was willing to make you an offer, but _now_ I think it will be better to let you feel what I am able to do. Enjoy this night, because it will be the last night without any pain for you.” Ivar fizzled and pulled out his small knife out of nowhere – a terrifying jolt of pleasure was running through his veins when he heard Heahmund hissing against the cut that Ivar made on his pretty face.

When the blood softly ran out of the small cut on Heahmund’s face, Ivar couldn’t resist and placed his fingers on Heahmund’s cheek, feeling the Christian stiffen under this touch.

His fingers slowly ran down to the cut, pressed to get out some more of the red thick mess until some drops were running down his fingers; when Ivar had enough, he pulled his fingers back to his mouth and licked up every drop of the christian blood.

“I can taste your fear...” Ivar whispered softly; he licked his fingers again, still keeping his burning eyes on Heahmund who was watching him with much more than unbelieve. It was something dark, and something mixed up with fear.

Ivar slapped Heahmund in the face, rolls of warmth running up and down in his body, and took his crutches tight by his side to get outside the tent.

When he finally reached his tent and pulled his legs on the warm bed filled up with furs, he breathed out slowly.

He didn’t know what kind of feeling it was that was throbbing all over his body, especially down his crotch, but it was a feeling he had never had before in his whole life.

The feeling started to get better when he slipped down his hands closer to his crotch, nearly touching his manhood. Ivar closed his eyes and cuddled himself deeper into the furs, while his hands were finding a good way inside his pants.


	2. You know what they say about Ivar the boneless?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your last comments and kudos, I am very happy about it! Please be kind with me, my english isn't the best one as it is not my native language, but I try my best and hope you still get what I want to say. :)  
This time, Ivar starts being the naughty little boy as we know him best. ;)

When Ivar woke up the next morning, he felt a little bit guilty. Guilty and somehow ashamed for what he had done last night – touching himself slowly, but without any hesitations. Feelings growing better, stronger – it had been like a dream, felt amazing when he finally had reached a point where his mind got blank; for the first time ever in his life.

The mess he had left, still a bit crusted on his sheets and furs, was lying there, and Ivar did his best to ignore it. There were slaves for these things, it was not possible that he was the only one who did these kind of things at night.

He remembered, deep inside his core, that he once had watched his older brother Ubbe doing it – with strong hands, ruff and nasty. Ivar closed his eyes a bit when his thoughts went back to this night, and he remembered very clearly how aroused he got by watching his older brother giving himself pleasure, until he had spilled a load on his sheets.

But there was no time for these thoughts right now. Ivar pulled himself out of the bed, using his arms to steady himself until he reached his clothes and finally went to dress himself. He used strong black colors and his favorite armor – he wanted to look great when he was in front of that Christian. Jolts of pleasure were running through his body when he thought about all the dirty things he had in mind – the Christian would bleed today. Whining to be part of Ivar’s army, just to let them stop the cruelty. He knew it would happen.

Because there was no man who ever went through more than two hours of pain being left alone with Ivar.

Ivar had broken them all.

***

“More!”

He was screaming, his voice full of pleasure and excitement. One of his guards nodded and hit Heahmund hard again, using his blank fists. A big amount of blood was spilling out of Heahmund’s mouth and covered some of the outstanding persons with blood. But since his people were used to be covered in blood, they were celebrating the events happening right in front of them.

Heahmund had not said one word. His arms were bound tightly behind his back, and kneeling in all that dirt and mud of the city, there was nothing he could do accept for getting used to the pain. Ivar had to admit that he did it quite well – no words, no sign of pain except for the wild runs of blood that were everywhere on his face. Blood ran down his chin, his temple and his browbone. But it had an amazing effect on his face – Ivar saw the deep blue of these wild eyes even more through the thick mess.

Ivar watched these eyes for a few moments. It was feeling so good, so exciting to see all that christian blood running down Heahmund’s handsome face that he had kept in mind the whole night before. Heahmund was watching him with pure hate and antipathy. There was nothing in his eyes that showed respect or anything like servility, and Ivar began to grow angry about that.

“Alright, my beloved people! As you can see, the Christian is still not amused or motivated enough to join us for the fight against his people… so, what do you want me to do? Should I…. take him with me? And I know that everyone of you knows what this means!” Ivar shouted, standing strong against his crutch while enjoying the loud crowd in front of him.

He knew his people. They were screaming, and he could tell that some of them were saying: “Torture! Torture!”

_They knew what he was going to do._

Ivar bit his lip in excitement and rolled his sparkling eyes over to Heahmund, who was still watching him with all the anger he had inside him.

“See, Bishop… my people know what will happen next. But do _you_ know it?”

Ivar limbed over to the big man, pulling his crotches after him. When he stood directly in front of Heahmund, he sank down a bit with his upper body to conquer Heahmund’s eyes with his own gaze.

“They know that no man ever survived more than two hours. I give you this last chance. Will you fight for me?”, he whispered slowly and deep; Heahmund tensed his whole body, and his blue eyes were getting sharper. When Ivar thought he wanted to open up his mouth to talk to him, he leaned back a bit – and one second later, Heahmund spit into his face.

The people around them were screaming and shouting, full of excitement for what came next. Ivar watched Heahmund, whipping away the blood stained spit from his left cheek. Biting his lip, he showed an evil smile, before he turned around to his people and screamed: “Jeg draeber ham!!!”

Heahmund understood no word that he was saying, but he could feel that it was nothing good; because when Ivar turned his face to him again, it felt like the devil himself was watching him.

***

His bones were strong, and yet was his mind – Ivar knew it even before his guards had taken Heahmund to the special tent, where Ivar used to torture his slaves; bound on a pale with heavy chains on his arms his legs, he wasn’t able to move that much – only so much that he could feel his body suffering from the pain that Ivar sent to him.

It took him long and a lot of self-control to play with the Christian. Ivar had already broken him some of his toes, a deep and gaping wound made by an axe was joining Heahmund’s mistreated body – included by his beaten up face, a cut on the throat and some slaps that Ivar loved to give after extreme heavy injuries – like the cut on the leg.

But Heahmund stayed strong. Sure, he had gasped from all the pain, gasped and spit and cursed – but he was remaining still strong.

Ivar breathed out slowly and sat down in front of the bishop. He still had his knife in his hand, with which he had made the last cut on Heahmund’s throat – but nothing. The bishop was only breathing unsteady and heavy, but he said nothing. He even had stopped watching Ivar.

“You know… I think you are a great warrior, and you know where your place is. This is fine, but… A place mustn’t be _that one_ place for all the time. See, I can give you a strong army. And we will fight against the Christians, and you will have your freedom. One day.” Ivar said this with a soft voice; he was playing with his knife in his hand, feeling Heahmund moving a bit. When he turned towards Ivar, he smelled something really fantastic. It was underneath all that blood, mud and pain. Something wild that made Ivar shiver inside. His eyes went over to Heahmund.

_The sky at night has the same blue, he thought._

“You know that I will never fight for you. I cannot give you what you want to have. So just kill me. If god wants me to die, then I will accept this fate.” Heahmund’s voice was deep and a bit scratchy, but still it left goosebumps on Ivar’s skin.

“I can be your god. Sometimes life is just not like we imagined it to be, so everything can change.”

Heahmund watched Ivar a bit puzzled when he said these words, but he still remained motionless.

It was just about a few moments later when Heahmund’s body stiffened suddenly; Ivar came closer to him, using his strong arms to overcome the distance between them.

“Should I tell you a story, bishop?”

Ivar’s fingers started to run down Heahmund’s cheeks, whipping away a bit of the blood that was on the skin there.

“Cruelty and wisdom sometimes walk hand in hand when it comes to ruling an empire. I would not be feared like that if I wouldn’t be that cruel – you know that. But out of my weakness I made my strongest side. People respect and fear me, especially my enemies. They know me for my awkward sense of brutality. You know what they say in different kingdoms?”

Ivar leaned closer to Heahmund, his finger fixing the chin of the bound christian who was now breathing even more heavily than before.

“They say… _Ivar the boneless eats children at night._ I think it’s a bit too much, but people have that in mind and respect me. And you know what they say too?”

He pulled the chin of the bishop closer to his face, waves of pleasure running down his body and some of the feelings went directly into his core –

“… they say: Ivar the boneless _eats christians._”

Heahmund opened his mouth, and his body started to move – but just then Ivar pulled hard to close the last few inches between them…

….and kissed the bishop.

It was a soft kiss, bathed in blood. Ivar could taste Heahmund’s pain. And for him, it felt like he was about to pass out. But he stayed strong.

It felt like a small eternity before Ivar broke the kiss as soft as he started it. His forehead was pressed against Heahmund’s, but the christian wasn’t able to move, not even if he would be allowed to. There was something, something deep and heated between them that left both of them speechless and breathless; and after a while it was Ivar who stood up, trembling a bit with his crutches.

He didn’t say a word when he left the tent, leaving the bishop speechless and puzzled, still tasting the heathen kiss on his blood stained lips.


	3. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm finally back and I really hope you guys enjoy the next chapter! <3 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy everyone! :)

The next day, Ivar wasn‘t visiting Heahmund in his tent.

Normally, he would have tortured him again and again, beating the shit out of him – but when he woke up this morning, still trembling soft with the bloodstained kiss in his mind, he wasn’t able to. Something – and he didn’t know what is was – told him to stay away from this man.

It was cruel but fascinating at the same time: Ivar had never met anyone before who had gotten him in such a state of mind, who had brought him in a situation like this. Where had his strength been? Where was his power to rule over this dumb Christian? He was nothing more than a slave, a christian slave. He should have killed him the minute Heahmund had spit him right into his face.

With a soft grumbling groan, Ivar sat down to eat his dinner after a day full of planning future fights and battles. They needed to move on in England, they had to rule this country and get rid of people like Heahmund.

But when Ivar looked down on his golden plate with chicken on it, he didn’t feel any sort of hunger. All he could think of was the sweet taste of blood and warm skin, that had left him speechless for a whole night and day.

It was late at night, nearly close to midnight, when Ivar was going into his bedroom and shoved his crutches into a corner. He was leaning against the small wooden table with a sink on it; a hot bowl of water stood there in front of a small mirror. When Ivar looked into the icy glass, he thought he looked tired and pale; normally, he had a pretty nice golden color to his skin, much more beautiful than his brothers skins.

He watched himself in the mirror for a while and listened to the sounds outside; people were still walking around, maybe it were the guards, and an owl was screaming into the silent night.

But something was different.

Ivar had a weird tingle feeling in his neck, leaving his skin with goosebumps all over. He felt like he was being watched.

With a searchingly gaze his eyes wandered through his bedroom, scanning all the details in there. He looked in every yet so dark corner, but there was simply nothing.

Although there was a soft, nearly not noticeable smell of sandalwood. When he breathed in deeply, Ivar felt like he had smelled this scent before once – but he wasn’t able to remember where he had smelled it.

It was a good scent, leaving him to close his eyes for a second, before he turned to the bowl with water.

Just before he had completely leaned down to wash his face, he suddenly heard a sharp noise behind him – but before he was able to react at all, he suddenly felt the sharpness of a knife against his throat and one strong arm that pressed his thorax so hard that he almost lost his ability to breath.

“Be quiet or I’ll kill you.” Ivar recognized the dark and deep voice as soon as he had opened his mouth to whisper these words against his heated ear: Heahmund.

“You…”, Ivar spat out as loud as he could; but it was not easy. Heahmund was strong, stronger than he had thought. His arm was still so tight around Ivar’s thorax that he even didn’t need to try and stand up on his own feet, because Heahmund was already carrying him in this tortuous position.

The scent of sandalwood was obscuring Ivar’s senses and made him feel a deep heat in his core. The knife was still pressed against his throat, when Heahmund moved them a bit aside before he pushed Ivar brutally against a wooden wall.

Ivar felt the scratching of the hard wood against his back, and it hurt. Heahmund’s arm was pressing down on his collarbone now so harshly that it still cut his air from his lungs, and the knife made a small cut in his skin. And although Ivar tried to move and push Heahmund away, he couldn’t get out of this situation. Heahmund was too strong and pressed him even more against the wood.

“You will let me go, you little bastard. If you scream for help, I will cut your damn throat like a chicken.” Heahmund whispered like a dark promise to Ivar, watching the young heathen conquering his gaze. Ivar’s eyes were still angry, heated somehow; but there was a small, mischievous smile on his lips.

“How did you escape? Who do I need to kill whenever I am done with you, bishop?” he said, and Heahmund laughed a bit; his fingers were closing firmer around the knife that he still had pressed against Ivar’s throat.

“All of your guards. They are as useless as you are… drunk and dumb. One of them left a knife in my tent and with a bit of body work I was able to escape… And now, I will go. And when we meet the next time, _Ivar the boneless_, it will be when I kill you in a battle.”

Ivar hissed. “Why don’t you kill me now?”

Voices were in front of the door, and Heahmund turned his head towards them; Ivar could feel that he shoved him harder against the wall with his body, and suddenly…

… suddenly, there was a heating fire in Ivar;s bones and body. Although he tried to focus on this situation, his mind was going somewhere else.

_Friction._ The friction between his body and Heahmund’s, he was feeling it so well right now…

Although he wanted to scream and shout out for help, Ivar didn’t. He was so excited about what would happen, what the bishop had in mind, that he didn’t say a word. The guards could have saved him, but he was too curious. This man was strange, so strange to understand and yet so beautiful and attractive.

Ivar swallowed hard, and Heahmund turned his eyes towards him again. They watched each other for a while before Heahmund finally answered.

“I don’t kill you now because I want to see you going down on my escape. You need to fall apart on this, knowing you were not able to capture and keep me… I will never fight for you heathen soulless monsters. Especially not for you… You are the devil, Ivar.” Heahmund’s voice was rough and hard, but Ivar adored it. The heat in his body was only building up more on these words, the way he pronounced his name.

“Maybe I am. I can be whatever you want me to be….” The words came out of his mouth before he was able to understand what he was really saying – but it confused Heahmund so much that he loosened his grip a bit.

Just enough to let Ivar quickly move; he shoved Heahmund a bit aside and bit in his arm so hard that Heahmund growled. It was only seconds when he had Ivar on the wall again and pressed his body so tight against Ivar’s that Ivar could feel the christian heartbeat very close to his.

Dizziness hit him so hard he almost lost his balance.

Heahmund breathed hard when he gave Ivar a harsh push; but the push just felt right. It was the perfect friction, and Ivar couldn’t help but gasping a bit. He could feel Heahmund crotch directly over his, and he swallowed hard when he realized that this position made him horny.

Just how he had imagined it…

“You fucking stay still now!” Heahmund hissed, and he gave him another push, not as hard as the first one, but hard enough to increase the friction that made Ivar shiver.

And when their eyes met again, Ivar swallowed and tried to close the distance between their faces, still feeling the sharp cutting edge of the knife on his throat. His eyes were burning in desire, and he was sure that Heahmund noticed it now.

Another soft push, a pull in Heahmund’s hair with a hand that Ivar was able to free and rise – and suddenly, the knife was gone.

A clinking sound, and the knife fell on the ground, and there were warm and rough hands that cupped Ivar’s face and pulled him close. Two seconds passed, in which they watched each other heated – before Heahmund closed the distance between them and kissed Ivar so impulsive that the Viking almost lost his breath.

It was the best kiss he had ever got in his whole life.

Heahmund tasted all like fire and woods and something incredible sweet that made Ivar so hot inside he almost felt like burning. Their bodies were tangled together now, and Ivar gasped out loud when he felt the increasing friction of Heahmund’s crotch rubbing against his.

He had been hard before this, before the kiss between them; but now, it felt like his orgasm was almost building _now_ from this beautiful shoves and frictions.

Of course Ivar had never experienced something like this – he had always thought he was not able to feel this sort of pleasure, he had always thought he was _in fact boneless_ – but it turned out he was not.

Heahmund moaned and leaned down to Ivar’s throat, kissing and biting every bit of skin he could reach; Ivar shivered on the feeling of white teeth in his skin, sucking, biting, nibbling.

And it was just then when he suddenly, unwantedly came.

The friction had done its job – Ivar, so inexperienced and young, had the first orgasm of his life with another human being. His fingers and hands were pulling so hard on Heahmund’s shoulders that the Christian hissed, but he still steadied the young heathen and still rubbed his crotch against his just to enlarge the pleasure of Ivar.

It took some time until Ivar was finally able to react again; his dizziness was still blinding him, but he loosened his harsh grip around Heahmund’s shoulder a bit.

He took a deep breath, felt the wetness of his pants.

With a soft pull in Heahmund’s hair he looked up to the tall christian and wanted to say something, when suddenly something hard hit him on the side of his head and knocked him out so hard that he fell on the floor.

The last thing he remembered around the sharp pain in his head was a tall shadow that went out of his room, and then everything turned dark and blind.


End file.
